Partners
by cruiscin lan
Summary: Mohinder has to deal with his mischievous new partner, Elle.


**A/N: This is a little bit AU from "Cautionary Tales," but not really spoilery.**

It was day two of the assignment; their first attempt to intercept Noah Bennet in Costa Verde had failed, so Bob Bishop had found Mohinder a hotel room for the night while he devised a better plan. Jet-lagged and drowsy from the painkillers for his broken nose, Mohinder decided to enjoy the brief time he had to himself by taking a long, refreshing shower. He relished the time he took to massage the shampoo into his hair, warm water cascading down his shoulders and racing along his skin. He cherished the softness of the washcloth as he scrubbed himself clean. He wanted nothing more, at that moment, to be alone - it was the only time he could be at peace with himself.

He emerged from the shower and immediately grabbed a towel to pat himself dry, but he was quickly distracted when he realized that his clothes were not where he left them on the counter within easy reach. He knew of only one explanation for their sudden disappearance - his troublesome new partner.

"Elle," he called out from the bathroom. "Elle, are you out there?" A girlish giggle indicated that she was, indeed, out there. "I need my clothes back, please."

"You'll have to come and get them," she teased.

"I'm... I'm indecent," Mohinder replied, the pitch of his voice rising with his embarrassment.

"Perfect! So am I."

"Elle, I'm serious," he said sternly, struggling to get his towel to wrap properly around his waist in the least-revealing way possible. His hair was still soaked, and water ran freely down his neck and shoulders, collecting in his belly button and the small of his back. "Don't make me come out there without my clothes."

"I promise I won't look!"

"Elle..." He knew he could argue forever with her, and still wouldn't win.

She had stretched herself across one of the double beds in the room like a feline. Lying on her back, she folded her hands behind her head and arched her back, thrusting herself towards him with a shameless smile on her face. Her legs dangled off the edge of the mattress, one ankle crossed over another, creating a line of composition that drew Mohinder's unwilling gaze along her thigh and into the curve of her hip and stomach. She was fully clothed, covered from shoulder to shoe, and yet Mohinder felt as though he was violating her in some way. He quickly turned away, preferring to look at his own feet as their wetness made dark marks on the carpet. With one hand he tried to block his own gaze, while the other clutched the towel that questionably covered him.

"Hey, Fight Club," Elle smirked, "Think fast."

With a flick of her wrist, she sent a blue spark sizzling through the air towards him. It connected with his shoulder with a hiss, dancing briefly through the rivulets of moisture that still traced his body. More surprised than in pain, he gasped and tried to catch the electricity in his hands - dropping his towel to the floor.

Mohinder stood there, completely naked for a moment, before he thought to grab the towel to conceal himself. "What did you do that for?" he demanded, unable to control the tone of his voice. He sounded at once angry and sincere and petulant and pitiful.

Elle, for her part, was struck silent for a moment. She sucked a breath in between her teeth before offering, "If it makes you feel better, I'll show you mine now that you've shown me yours."

"Where are my clothes, Elle?"

"Don't you want to see me naked?" she asked, her eyebrows peaking. "Or do you play for the other team?"

Mohinder sat at the edge of the bed, exasperated already by Elle's antics. He held his head in his hands for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping that when he'd open them she'd have disappeared. The towel draped across his thighs - he was safe from his navel to his knees, but anything else was fair game, as far as Elle was concerned. Within an instant her hands were caressing his shoulders, her hands twisting in the wet ringlets where his scalp met the nape of his neck.

He _tried_ to be angry at first. He'd only just met her earlier that day, and she instantly wanted to make him her plaything. He knew he was just a toy to her, a pawn, just as he was to her father. But it had been so long since he'd enjoyed the simple pleasure of human contact, the feeling of someone else's touch, the sensation of skin against skin. So for a moment he _tried_ to be angry, but his attempt failed, and instead he found his palm cupping the back of her head as he turned towards her and kissed her violently.

She returned his kiss with just as much force, her surprise only betrayed by the sudden clenching of her fists in his hair. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, traced the outlines of his teeth, tasted like Slush-O and sugar. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down towards the bed; she lay willingly on her back, pulling her jacket off first. He hovered over her, his lips stroking the surface of her neck, as she unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a lacy little bra. He let the towel drop as he struggled with her belt and the button of her pants as her hands flew along his buttocks, his back, his neck, his hair, his face. She craned upwards to nibble his ears as he pulled her clothes down over her thighs to her knees, both shaking with excitement.

Afterwards they lay together on top of the covers, close but not touching, neither one sure of the proper protocol. In awkward silence they stared at the ceiling, until Elle finally opened her mouth to say something.

"Best partner I ever had."


End file.
